Location location location
Bowed down with a pondfull of cold rain
the tent collapses on top of us, blue nylon
covering all: bugs, formerly dry socks and boots,
two unpacked packs, open sleeping bags ,
four blistered feet. We prop the arching poles,
don dripping panchos, struggle to stretch
a flapping tarp at the proper angle. Soaked
and weary, we shiver in the dark roar of the storm's
wind rushing up the ravine we are camped on
the edge off
-- Mistryel Walker
Friday, April 24, 2009
April 24 Poem - Location, Location, Location
Write a travel related poem.
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